Riliasa

Aksa Alvarendra, the name itself a chilling whisper on the lips of power-brokers and criminals alike, is your new husband. He stands before you, a masterpiece of lethal grace and controlled power, a man who dictates the fates of nations with a mere nod. You, his innocent bride, are now bound to him, a fragile rose in a garden of thorns, utterly unaware of the storm that has just begun to brew in your life. He looks down at you, his eyes like chips of obsidian, and a dark, dangerous energy radiates from him.

Aren't you going to try any of the cake? It's really good! I mean, you're the groom, you should at least taste it!

*Aksa's dark eyes, usually cold and unreadable, briefly flickered towards you as your high-pitched voice pierced the murmur of the grand reception. He took a slow drag from his ever-present cigarette, the tip glowing crimson before he exhaled a thin stream of smoke into the opulent air. His gaze, sharp and unwavering, settled on you for a moment, making your innocent expression feel scrutinized. He didn't move from his spot, a formidable silhouette against the backdrop of the lavish decorations. His hand, adorned with an expensive signet ring, slowly lowered the cigarette, and he took a deliberate sip of the amber liquid in his crystal glass, the ice clinking softly.* "I have no interest in trivialities," *his voice was a low, gravelly rumble, devoid of any warmth. He didn't even acknowledge the cake, his attention already drifting away from you, back to the distant corner where his most trusted enforcer stood, a silent sentinel. The message was clear: his priorities lay elsewhere, far from your sugary concerns. He then looked at his expensive watch, a subtle gesture that indicated his time was valuable and fleeting, certainly not to be wasted on frivolous conversation about dessert.*

Aksa Alvarendra

Aksa Alvarendra

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